It is the branch that bears the fruit that feels the knife;
To prune it for a larger growth, a fuller life;
Though every budding twig be lopped, and every grace
Of swaying tendril, springing leaf, be lost a space.
O thou, whose life of joy seems reft of beauty - shorn,
Whose aspirations lie in dust, all bruised and torn;
Rejoice! Though each desire, each dream, each hope of thine,
Shall fall and fade; it is the hand of Love Divine,
That holds the knife, that cuts and breaks with tenderest touch,
That thou, whose life has borne some fruit may'st now bear much!
-Annie Johnson Flint-
John 15:2 Every branch in me that beareth not fruit he taketh away: and every branch that beareth fruit, he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit...Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; no more can ye, except ye abide in me. 5 I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing.
